


Choosing

by artifactstorageroom3_archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-17
Updated: 2009-06-17
Packaged: 2019-06-13 03:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15355119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artifactstorageroom3_archivist/pseuds/artifactstorageroom3_archivist
Summary: William Ellison tries to get out of his closet. This is a sequel to “Cleaning the Cabin.” Reading that story first is advisable





	Choosing

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Elaine, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Artifact Storage Room 3](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Artifact_Storage_Room_3) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Artifact Storage Room 3’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/artifactstorageroom3/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Not a completely happy ending, some internal ramblings of a man not entirely comfortable with his sexuality.

William Ellison brushed nervously at his hair. For the fifth time, he checked himself in the mirror. It was odd to look and not see the carefully cultivated business man in the mirror. Gone were the glasses that the optometrist insisted he really didn’t need to wear except for when he was driving. Gone was the mustache that he had spent several years trimming and combing just so every morning. Gone were the bland cardigan and khaki sets that spoke very plainly of being an upper class man of leisure.

In William Ellison’s place stood a man that he recognized but thought long dead. Hesitantly he reached a hand out to trace his reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, it was his hand and not some stranger’s.

“I’m leaving now, Mr. Ellison. Are you sure you don’t need me to come in this weekend?” Sally’s voice interrupted William’s strange moment, and he was very grateful for it. There was a reason that he had kept Sally around all these years, and it wasn’t her cooking.

“I’ll be fine, Sally. You go enjoy your time with your son. You deserve it,” he answered through the shut bathroom door. He would’ve waited to shave until she had actually left, but her son had called at the last moment to say that he was going to be a couple of hours late. That bit of news had conflicted with William’s carefully laid our strategy for his own weekend. As a result, he was now about to be unconscionably rude to the best employee he had ever had.

Still, there was no cure for it. The man in the mirror would arouse the suspicions of anybody with half a brain cell, let alone a woman of Sally’s intelligence. Being rude? Well, while Sally would certainly lecture him about it when she got back on Monday night, she wouldn’t be nearly as close to correct in her assumptions as she would be if she saw him right now.

It wasn’t as if he did not already have a contingency plan in place. His moustache wouldn’t have completed growing back by the time that she returned from her little holiday. The story would simply be that he had accidentally shaved off part of his facial hair while she was getting ready to go and had been too embarrassed to show himself.

The lie was good as far as lies went. It was both plausible and would lessen the severity of the lecture he would receive from his housekeeper. Instead of getting one that would inevitably bring up Jimmy and Stevie, he would simply be the recipient of one about being too old to be so vain.

Thank God.

If he wanted a lecture on Jimmy, he’d call up Blair. His eldest had certainly found himself a little fishwife to bring home. It was too bad that Blair Sandburg hadn’t gone into business. The man was as insistent as the way was long and had the bite of a German shepherd. Once the boy got his teeth into a topic, he didn’t let go. Of course, his favorite topic in the world was Jimmy, and lately the focus of that topic had been how William should really tell his eldest that he was a queer.

Right. Like that was ever going to happen. He had screwed up enough with his children; he didn’t need to add the shame of being a homosexual to his very strained parental relationship with them.

That wasn’t to say that he was completely immune to Blair’s persuasions. It was Blair’s suggestion that he go out dating. When he had kicked up a fuss to that suggestion, the undaunted Mr. Sandburg had gone around researching the safest, most discreet, most reputable gay clubs and had oh so nonchalantly sent a card in the mail with a list of places that William should try.

The man was exasperating. William didn’t know how Jimmy could live with somebody so righteously nosy except that he was in love with the boy. Not that either Jimmy or Blair were in the mood to accept that. Oh no, Blair might be insistent about William being out and proud, but that boy didn’t deserve to have ‘in the closet’ applied to his relationship with Jimmy. ‘In the hidden, bomb proof wall safe’ was a better description by far.

But… that was Jimmy and the little Missus. And tonight was about William and potentially finding a big, strong…

Well, he didn’t need to finish that thought now did he? It was hardly the polite thing to ponder.

Numbly he heard Sally’s exasperated sigh as she walked away from the door when she realized that her employer was not going to come out and say his farewells like a normal person. Her sigh didn’t have that much oomph to it though. William supposed that was because she had spent too many years amongst the Ellison clan and knew that ‘normal’ was not a word to be applied to the family in any way. Perhaps Stevie would qualify, but the other two men in the family sure didn’t.

Shaking his head, William turned and grabbed his brown leather belt off of the back of the toilet where he’d put it along with his other clothes when he had first come in to take his shower.

It was strange this getting ready to go on a date. He hadn’t been out in years. He wouldn’t call the women he trotted out to social events ‘dates.’ They were business tools, and they knew it. They were only there because it would either advance their own careers or the careers of a close friend or relative.

There was nothing to lose in those ventures really. Both parties were working towards a mutually acceptable goal. There was no chance of rejection, only one of the social events not panning out with as many opportunities as one had hoped. The few times that a woman had angled for a chance at a more intimate acquaintance, William had made certain to shut her down cold. He’d been down that road with Grace, and he believed in learning his lessons the first time.

Only now, now he was about to go back on the lesson he had learned all those years ago with the one love of his life. He was about to go out and see if there was another man that he could, if not love, at least enjoy the company of.

It terrified him. Not the potential political fallout of it, but the personal implications. The business aspects he had well in hand. He knew how to disguise his leanings, and if lucky, his careful preparations would keep anybody from connecting who he was with who he really was. Whatever that meant. It sounded logical in his mind, so he was going to go with it.

And if he was really lucky, he might find somebody that cared about him. He knew logically that hoping for anonymity and love in was a cross purpose, but he’d deal with that bridge if he ever came to it.

He doubted that he would.

Shaking his head at his foolishness, he quickly pulled his belt into place and combed his hair, placing his part in a different spot from its normal position. Smirking at the mixed brown and gray color, he turned away from the mirror and opened the bathroom door. He really hoped that the hair dye would wash out like the box said otherwise he was really going to get the lecture from Sally about aging gracefully.

A quick detour to the study to grab his carefully hidden keys, and he was out the back door and heading towards his garage. The blue truck was a new addition to his collection if not new in the sense of its age. It had been purchased to give the impression of a middleclass man: some, but not all the options installed, enough miles to make it rumble a bit and enough wear on the paint to make it look used. He was not interested in being anybody’s sugar daddy, and the best way to avoid those types was to make it look like you didn’t have the money to spend.

With the graceful step of a much younger man, William put one foot up on the running board of the truck and swung the other one inside. He took a moment to center himself in the vehicle before slipping the key into the ignition and driving off.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William had been at the club all of ten minutes before he desperately wanted to vanish. The place was nice enough. Whatever the young Mr. Sandburg’s faults, the man obviously knew how to do his research. The place was sedate and calm, not some raucous dance club with writhing pretty boys in mascara and cheap vinyl masquerading as leather.

Though set up to encourage discussions, it had several corners set up to give privacy, but not the kind of privacy that encouraged anonymous fucking in a public place. The clientele were mostly men of forty and older, and the maturity of the crowd was reflected in not only the furnishings but the professional service of the staff as well.

Still for all the accoutrements, he felt desperately out of place. The thought had occurred to him that he could simply just get up and take the fifty minute drive home, but that felt suspiciously like quitting. Ellisons weren’t quitters. William’s own father had told him that often enough.

Is it sacrilege to think about your father when you’re on the prowl for another man? The slightly sick feeling in William’s gut seemed to think so. He’d long ago quit trying to look at everything he did through the lens of his sire, but that was mainly because he just couldn’t live the fact that he had so mislead his beloved father.

 Peter Ellison had died proud of William and his two month old grandson. He had never known that his son was sexual aberration and had passed that aberration down to his firstborn. It was a constant source of shame to William that his father had been so misguided in that pride. Not that he thought his father shouldn’t have felt so proud of Jimmy, no his son had certainly grown into a fine man. The fault of his tendencies was solely on William’s shoulders after all.

He supposed that his attempts to urge Blair into Jimmy’s arms could be seen as a bit contradictory to his feelings about homosexuality, but he would argue that it was the natural result of those feelings. He was finally taking responsibility for what he had, however unintentionally, given to his son. If he couldn’t take back those needs, he could certainly be a good father and encourage his son into the best possible result of those abnormal longings.

No doubt Sandburg would find his musings altogether laughable and then be scandalized that William rarely thought of the ‘sentinel curse’ at all. Well, that was only because the boy wasn’t a father. If he was, he’d have a better perspective on such things.

Things like, like why he was yet again pondering his son instead of faking enjoyment on his big night out.

Well, okay. Time to fix that.

Signaling the bar tender for a drink, he quickly pulled out his normal sized tip instead of one more appropriate to the station in life he was trying to convey. He realized his mistake just as the server’s hand grasped the other end of the proffered bills. Oh well, at least if he ever came back the man would give him good service.

He quickly chugged down half his drink and slunk into a dark corner to plunk down into a chair that was settled next to a small table.

“Not your usual Friday night out, I take it?” an amused voice buzzed in William’s ear.

Startled, he looked towards his right to see a bespectacled man looking inquisitively at him. His features were neither striking nor especially handsome, but were pleasing enough. His hair was a studiously neutral shade of brown that couldn’t have been more unremarkable had the man tried.

He certainly seemed safe enough to talk to.

“I haven’t been… out in a while,” William mumbled with none of the finesse of the business man that he was.

“I gathered that. You’re too old to be coming in here on a dare, and you’re too jittery to be anything other than uncomfortable,” the other man observed.

“You’ve been watching me?” William asked in a slightly shocked tone. He didn’t know whether to be incensed or flattered.

The other man shrugged and pulled his own drink off of the table. “It’s something of a habit of mine. I’m a people watcher.”

“And what else do your observations tell you?”

“That if I asked you your name right now, the one you give me won’t be real.”

William nodded, unaccountably pleased at the man’s intuition. “You’re a smart man.”

His companion shrugged noncommittally. “Just experienced. All the same, I’d prefer to at least have something to call you by.”

“Even if it’s a false name?” William couldn’t quite keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“Even if,” The other man confirmed, “In fact, why don’t I give you a pseudonym that you can call me by? If we both lie about our names, we’re both lying to each other. In a way, it makes things even.”

William felt his lips twitch slightly in amusement, and nodded his head in agreement. “You first.”

“Adam,” the other man lied so smoothly that William might have believed him in another situation. Of course, he’d spent years making his fortune by reading his business associates, so he might also have noticed that the other man was deceiving him as well. It was a bit irksome to have that sort of uncertainty. William liked to trust in his ability to read people.

“William,” he replied with a bit of perverse amusement running through his brain. After all, what better way to lie than by telling the truth?

“‘William,’ it’s a good choice. It suits you, but it’s a bit of a mouthful. How about I call you ‘Will’ instead?”

William frowned slightly at the man’s impertinence. “No.”

“‘Bill?’”

“No,” William replied as his frown began to deepen and make know his annoyance.

“What about ‘Liam’? It is a bit ostentatious, but it is an acceptable shortening of the name in certain areas of the world.”

“Look, do you have some sort of problem with my name? Because I can go over there to the nice man in the blue sport coat and have a conversation with him instead,” William snapped irritably.

Adam shrugged and smiled benignly. “You don’t want to talk to him. He’s married to a happily oblivious housewife. His youngest just went off to college this year.”

William huffed and took another sip of his drink.

“Mmm, I must be getting old. I didn’t peg you as the high maintenance type,” Adam’s voice had a slight purring quality to it.

William felt a flash of hot and cold run through his body at the tone, but he’d be damned though if he let the other man know how close he’d gotten to pushing the right buttons with that tone.

“I’m not high maintenance. I’m just an adult who knows the worth of his name and what he lets people call him.”

“And what is that, might I ask? I don’t mean to insult you, but I tire of boring conversations that are merely for polite angling for future sexual rewards.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever met a man who wasn’t interested in future sexual rewards with somebody,” William replied instead of answering Adam’s question.

“Ah,” the other man’s tone lost quite a bit of its luster. “I should explain then,” he said, but no further words came out of his mouth. Instead, he reached down and gave a gentle shove.

It was immediately apparent that William had not been as observant as he thought that he had been when he realized that his conversational partner was seated in a wheelchair.

“So, you see, sexual rewards are a bit more difficult for me to come by in my situation. Perhaps you think it a fool’s errand to go to a place like this looking for a more meaningful relationship, but I do harbor a lingering hope,” Adam said without a hint of self pity in his voice.

William’s own hopes died a strangulated death at that moment. Why he couldn’t quite say. There were certainly plenty of other men in the club who he had caught looking in his direction. Well dressed friendly looking men. Men that could walk and possibly be able to give him what he needed in bed without extra effort and imagination.

But he really didn’t want to know why his hopes died either. For as much as he enjoyed certain physical aspects of male companionship, he was fonder of challenging discussions and the opportunity to take care of someone who would take care of him in return. Of course, putting a man in that category just because he was in a wheelchair was at the very least an uninformed view, and he knew it.

Still…

“Wheel the damn chair back in why don’t you? I don’t like craning my neck to talk to a person. The kinks don’t rub out like they used to,” he groused gruffly.

Adam had the gall to look surprised before he rolled almost silently back into position.

“I’m used to pity or fear,” he commented directly.

“I don’t have time for either,” William informed him brusquely as he signaled the waiter over.

“Well then, Liam,” he drawled the name out with a smirk, “what do you have the time for?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

William adjusted his tie nervously as he waited for the elevator to finish making its climb to the third floor. Things had been going well for the past few weeks, better than he had imagined they would back when he had made that first trip to the club. He and Adam had met up a couple more times at the club before moving on to dates in obscure restaurants in little towns.

Tonight though, tonight was special. At their last conversation, they had agreed that if they were going to start seeing each other more regularly, they would have to come clean with their true identities. After all, fake names were great for preserving anonymity, but they got in the way of building a true relationship quickly. If one let it continue, it would only lead to hurt feelings later on when the truth was ultimately revealed, no matter how good intentioned the original plan had been.

It was odd to realize that he was actually looking forward to telling Adam about himself. How a lot more grey hair was covered by the wretched brown dye than Adam probably thought. How he hated having a bare upper lip after so many years of having a mustache. How he hated that damn truck and couldn’t wait to show up in his actual car. How proud he was of his two sons…

Shaking his head and taking a deep breath, William brought his hand up and knocked on the door.

It immediately swung open.

“I saw you park that truck of yours out front,” Adam explained.

“And you wonder why I think you’re close to being paranoid,” William said as he walked inside.

“More like a teenage girl at the moment. I’ve been looking out the window every five minutes for the past half hour,” Adam ruefully admitted.

William smiled at him and began to try to unobtrusively look at the pictures on the wall.

“I suppose that we should get the big revelations out of the way first. Truthfully I’m not sure I can handle much more of this suspense,” Adam admitted.

“I know what you mean. I was tempted to look up your address and see who lived here all week long, and the mailboxes were a great temptation when I was waiting for the elevator to come down.”

“I suppose they were. Although, I almost wish that you had. It would make me feel better knowing that one of us had enough sense to check up on his date.”

“Throwing caution to the wind is so much more romantic though,” William rejoined with a teasing smile.

Adam shook his head indulgently. “Did you ever notice how often ‘foolish’ and ‘romantic’ are paired together in literature? There is a reason for that you know.”

“Well then, let me clear something up for you, so you feel better. I lied to you. My name is William.”

Adam’s eyebrow quirked upwards in shock for a moment before he chuckled. “Knowing you, that somehow makes sense. I suppose I should even the score then. My name is Jack.”

“Nice to meet you,” William said as he stuck his right hand out for a handshake.

Jack somberly shook his hand in return. “I’m going to go get our refreshments out of the refrigerator. Make yourself at home.”

“I could…”

“Liam, I don’t need help,” Jack stated firmly.

“I know. And quit calling me Liam,” William retorted as he walked over to a nearby bookshelf to snoop through the items that were on display.

“Mmm, it’s your fault you know. If you had picked a different name, then I’d have to call you something new,” Jack responded over the tinkling sound of ice going into a glass.

“You certainly have enough books on government agencies,” William commented as he drifted away from the bookshelf to peruse a photo album that had been left open on the coffee table.

“I used to be in one.”

“Really?”

“There are many things you don’t know about me.”

“Well, how about we start small and you tell me why you live on the third floor of an apartment building. What if there’s a fire or the power goes out? Isn’t it unsafe to try negotiating the stairs?” William asked as he leaned in to study a photo of Jack and another man.

“You’re quite the mother hen, William. Anybody else ever tell you that?”

William though didn’t truly hear the question because blood was too busy roaring in his ears. It wasn’t some former lover that was crouching beside Jack in the photo. It was a slightly younger Blair Sandburg who was grinning like a loon while the two of them posed outside the newly rebuilt cafeteria at Rainier.

“Yeah, I know him,” Jack commented softly when he rolled into his living room and realized what William’s attention was focused on. “Well, thought I knew him actually. I… Words can’t really describe my disappointment and anger at him. If it were anybody else, I’d have just blamed his youth, but Blair above all others knew the potential outcomes of what he did.”

“That’s a little harsh,” William heard himself respond.

Jack sighed and put the tray he had balanced on his lap down onto the coffee table beside the photo album.

“Blair worked with the police department for a long time. He knew the ramifications that having a fake thesis could ultimately cause, and he chose to write it anyway. Thesis papers are long, detailed documents, William. They aren’t something that a person throws together at the last minute in a moment of temptation.”

“He told the truth though,” William pointed out.

“Yes, but he should never have had to. Instead he almost destroyed a good man and did great damage to the university,” Jack’s voice was a mixture of sadness and bitterness as he spoke. It was a blend that William had heard several times over the course of his career. It was the tone that betrayed people had once the anger had finished leaking out of them.

William felt his own pain rise and swallowed to keep it down.

Adam, no, Jack was a wonderful man, but Blair was family.

He was man enough to admit that he was going to take solace in the fact that he really did not have a choice.


End file.
